Since I was cut from the reedbed I have made this crying sound. Anyone separated from someone he loves understands what I say. Anyone pulled from a Source longs to go back.

Come, come, whoever you are. Wanderer, worshiper, lover of leaving. It doesn't matter. Ours is not a caravan of despair. Come, even if you have broken your vows a thousand times. Come, yet again, come, come.

Anyone who genuinely and consistently with both hands look for something, will find it.

Both light and shadow are the dance of Love. Love has no cause, it is the astrolabe of God's secrets. Lover and loving are inseparable and timeless. Although I may try to describe love, when I experience it, I am speechless. Although I may try to write about love, I am rendered helpless. My pen breaks, and the paper slips away at the ineffable place where lover loving and loved are one. Every moment is made glorious by the light of Love.

Kindle in thy heart the flame of love.

This dance is the joy of existence.

Moonlight floods the whole sky from horizon to horizon; How much it can fill your room depends on its windows.